


more than blood, deeper than bone

by forgettheghosts



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi, aftermath of galidraan, aftermath of melida/daan, outer rim slave culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgettheghosts/pseuds/forgettheghosts
Summary: There were no treatises written on how to care for the cloned son of your not quite ex-husband with whom you shared a few thousand years worth of ethnic tension and a particularly nasty breakup.---------------Jango Fett may not have been ethically sound or reliable outside of a paid job, but he was careful with his paperwork.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 297
Kudos: 1785
Collections: Jedi Journals, Star Wars





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> jumping on the 'used to be married when they met as younglings' jangobi train. is that a train? I've definitely read only mostly dead more than once, so shoutout to that beautiful monster of a fic.  
> this will be slightly cracky, but I do intend to take it seriously. Obi Wan and Jango's backstory will be explained as it goes on.

The comm arrived during a otherwise standard pre-hyperspace setup. The 212th was set to liaison with the 501st near Alderaan, where if no crisis occurred the men would be granted leave over the course of a few rotations, courtesy of Queen Breha’s public willingness to allow Clones to roam freely on the planet. 

“Comm coming through the GAR Command channels for you, General.” One of the bridge officers said. 

“Patch it through,” Obi Wan replied, not even looking up from the holopad Cody had handed him a moment earlier. 

“General Kenobi, this is Ja’ak Nadishir of the Republic Welfare Commission.” An older Twi’Lek woman spoke on the holo. 

Obi Wan looked up, slight confusion crossing his features before they smoothed out to his usual genial calm. “What can I do for you, Lady Nadishir?”

“My contacting you concerns matters you may consider somewhat personal, General. It may be best to continue this call privately.” She replied. Her tone was calm and professional, there was a clear note of trepidation in her voice.

Obi Wan raised an eyebrow, glancing at Cody as though he would have any idea what this was about. Cody simply raised one back; if it wasn’t likely to get anyone killed on the battlefield, he tried not to keep track of all of Obi Wan’s various semi-legal ventures and associates, for his own blood pressure as much as for his plausible deniability.

“Very well, if you think it best. Commander, the bridge is yours. Lieutenant Slice, please reroute the call to my office.”

“Sir!” 

“Any idea what the Welfare commission wants with you, sir?” Cody asked.

“None. Though if it has anything to do with Anakin, I’m sending every agency in the Republic his personal comm number.”

“Perhaps Rex lost him at a market, and they found your number written in his robes.” Cody said wryly.

Obi Wan snorted. “I do hope not; if he’s gotten himself arrested I’m comming Master Windu.”

Cody saluted, sarcastic stance likely unreadable to anyone who didn’t know him like Obi Wan did. 

Obi Wan made his way to his small office just off the bridge. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, and whenever possible he much preferred making the trek to his quarters to conduct business. But the call was mysterious, and he didn’t want to make the trip for nothing.

He activated the holo in his office, shutting the door behind him. 

“How may I assist you, Lady Nadishir?” Obi Wan asked. 

“General Kenobi, I am contacting you regarding the recent arrest of your son.”

Obi Wan blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“He was arrested on Temako five days ago, and it took us some time to establish a positive identification when he refused to co-operate. As this is his first known offense-”

“My apologies, but I believe there has been some mistake. I don’t have a son.”   
On the holo, the twi’lek pursed her lips in a way that communicated exactly the level of her disapproval.

“You are Obi Wan Kenobi, yes?”

“Yes, of course, but-”

“And you registered a marriage with one Jango Fett on the planet Mon Gazza?”

Obi Wan stilled, a sudden cold fear creeping over his skin. 

“I’m not certain I would consider it ‘registered’.” He said, attempting to sound more confident than he felt. 

“During Mon Gazza’s short tenure as an agent of Republic space, all civil documentation recorded in Miner’s Town was copied to Republic archives. A ceremony considered a cultural equivalent to a Republic marriage licence was registered two years after the event and no divorce was registered in Republic record. Are these records inaccurate?” 

“I suppose not.” Obi Wan said softly. Two years- long enough after their parting that he knew, without a doubt, that Jango had made it a part of his long plan.

“In which case, under the rule of the Republic Welfare Commission, in accordance with amendment 263.7 of the Youngling Welfare Act, you are considered the legal parent of one Boba Fett, as Jango Fett’s surviving spouse.”   
“Legal parent.” He croaked. “I see.”

“Would you like to surrender custody of one Boba Fett to the Republic Disciplinary Commission?”

“Disciplinary Commission?” Obi Wan shook his head, attempting to clear his thought. “Right, what exactly has he done?”

“Boba Fett faces three counts of theft and one count of assault with a weapon. As he is under the age of majority for his species, he may be released to a parent or legal guardian with a fine, or serve a Temako rotation in a Disciplinary Center. Do you wish to surrender your son to the custody of the Disciplinary Commission?”

“My son.” Obi Wan blinked again, harder, as though he may awake from this conversation. He did not. 

“General Kenobi?” The woman asked impatiently. 

“No, I do not wish to… surrender custody.” He replied. What else could he do? 

“Very well. Instructions will be forwarded to you as to how to retrieve him and pay the related fines. Thank you for your time.”

The holo flickered out abruptly, leaving Obi Wan alone in the dim light of his office. He sank down in the seat behind his desk and ran a hand over his face. 

“Jango, you absolute kriffing bastard.” He whispered. 

The silence around him did not reply. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i cannot believe the reaction to this fic???? you are all way too sweet thank you for all your lovely comments! you really made my week!  
> some clarifications for those who asked: jango is dead in this fic, he won't be making a miraculous comeback. However, each chapter will open with flashbacks that illuminate his and obi wan's past, so you'll still see him.  
> also, while I love the enthusiasm for it, this won't be a 'obi wan adopts the GAR' fic. however, it will definitely have aspects of team-as-family! so I hope you still enjoy. 
> 
> tldr: italics at the beginning are a flashback to obi wan's time with jango, and will preclude each chapter.

_ Obi Wan awoke to a silence like nothing he had ever experienced.  _

_ Not auditory- he could register that he was hearing the sound of whispering people and creaking wood, his own ragged breathing.  _

_ The Force was silent.  _

_ It never sang for him like some people described, but he could always hear it. Like his own heartbeat, he could always feel it if he stopped to listen.  _

_ The Force was gone.  _

_ Obi Wan scrambled up onto his knees, breathing heavily.  _

_ He could not remember his meditation exercises, his breathing. Even when he had lost his lightsaber, his master, he had always had the Force. On his knees in the dust of Melida/Daan, waiting to take a blaster bolt to the skull, he knew he would rejoin with the Force, and he allowed himself peace. There was no peace now. He was only supposed to die; instead he had been captured and sold.  _

_ It wasn’t until there were hands pulling on his own that he realized he had been clawing at his neck and face.  _

_ “Hey, c’mon. Breath, kid.” A deep voice spoke. Obi Wan tried to focus on it and found that it came from a man kneeling in front of him. His tan face was scared and sunburnt, his hair matted to his chin. What Obi Wan focused on were his eyes. They had a depth to him that he could not quite name.  _

_ The man had taken one of Obi Wan’s hands and placed it on his own chest, moving it deliberately.  _

_ Right. He had told Obi Wan to breathe.  _

_ Obi Wan attempted to do so until he caught his breath enough to speak.  _

_ “The Force,” he croaked. “They’ve taken the Force from me, I can’t feel it.” _

_ The man’s lip curled. “What are you, some kind of jetii?” _

_ Obi Wan shook his head. “Not anymore. I left the order.” _

_ The man stared at him for a moment, then snorted. “There’s irony for you.” He said. “Jetti are expensive. They’ll have chipped you; like Force blocking cuffs, but in your spine. You’re just like the rest of us now.” _

_ Obi Wan sat back on his heels; of course. His origins had not been a secret on Melida/Daan. His departure from Master Jinn had been public. No one wanted to risk a Force-sensitive slave.  _

_ “You got a name, not-a-jetii?” The man asked. _

_ “Ben Kenobi.” He answered after a moment; he had gone by Ben on Medlia/Daan, after all. “Where am I?” _

_ “Well, Ben Kenboi, not-a-jetii, you’re on Mon Gazza. Largest Spice mine in the Outer Rim.” _

_ Obi Wan swallowed. Spice mining was one of the worst forms of slavery there was, with the highest fatality rates. No doubt that Daan fighters who had caught him had chosen it specifically.  _

_ “I see.” He breathed. “And you are?” _

* * *

Temako wasn’t terribly far from the  _ Negotiator’s  _ current position in the Outer Rim. It would be a simple matter to add the planet to their route back to the Core. Explaining the purpose for the stop, however, would likely be more complicated. 

Obi Wan had sent a message to Cody asking him to come to his quarters after Alpha shift, and he felt the Commander’s presence outside the door right as he was opening a Corellian whisky that he had, foolishly, thought he might save for an occasion of good news. 

“Ah, Cody. Thank you for joining me. Here, why don’t you take this.” Obi Wan pushed a glass to the other man across his small table. Cody sat across from him with the ease of many strategy meetings worth of familiarity, removing his bucket and gloves as he accepted the glass. 

“New orders, sir?”

“Obi Wan, Cody, please.” Obi Wan said. It was an old fight, more habit than anything. Cody used Obi Wan’s name in private quite frequently, usually if Obi Wan had done something to draw his ire. But the back and forth was familiar, and Obi Wan desperately needed the familiar at that moment. 

“Of course, sir. What are the orders?” Cody replied, sipping his glass. 

“Not orders, exactly. I’ll need to make a short stop on the planet Temako. Some personal business has recently come to light.”

“I’ll let Navigation know,” Cody said, and Obi Wan nodded in thanks. “Not to pry, but is this business related to the comm earlier? You never returned to the bridge.”

“It is.” Obi Wan sighed and took a swing of his own drink. “I won’t ask you to lie if the men come to you with questions, but I must request that the details of what I say now do not leave this room.”

“Of course,” Cody frowned. “Are you all right, General?”

Obi Wan laughed humourlessly. “I am, unfortunately, being haunted by my young self.”

Cody raised an eyebrow, silently asking what Obi Wan meant.

“I never brought it up, because… well, there was never an occasion. And I didn’t want you or the other  _ vode  _ to feel awkward, or like I would make any comparisons. But I… well, I knew Jango Fett. Before I arrived on Kamino, I mean.”

“I… wasn’t aware.” Cody replied hesitantly. 

“No, few people are. It’s not a time in my life I speak about. We met on the planet Mon Gazza when I was… away, from the Order, and believed that I would remain so.”

“Prime… that is, Jango was a slave on Mon Gazza. In the spice mines.” Cody said carefully, dark eyes gazing into Obi Wan’s own. 

“He was. It was not the most pleasant of meetings.”

“You were enslaved?” Cody’s voice held a cold anger, his hand tight around his glass.

“Briefly,” Obi Wan waved a hand. “In a way it was fortuitous. Together we were able to assist in the fledgling slave rebellion there, eventually freeing Miner’s Town and the mountain range surrounding it. We became… close, during that time. During Mon Gazza’s brief time with the Republic it managed to become involved in bureaucracy, and well.  _ Riduurok  _ are recognized in Republic space, apparently.”

“ _ Riduurok.  _ You were Jango’s  _ riduur.”  _ Cody blanched; it was the most startled expression Obi Wan had ever seen on his usually stoic face.

“Indeed. We parted ways many years ago, but… even if it were the sort of thing that could be unsaid, it never crossed my mind that there would be any kind of notation of the event. But apparently Jango made sure there was, probably to put me in exactly this situation. He always was a crafty bastard.” 

“Situation, sir?” Cody asked, voice betraying how much exactly he dreaded the answer. 

“It appears, as I am legally his surviving spouse, I am the guardian of his son.” Obi Wan answered.

“Son- wait, you mean Boba? He’s alive?”

“Apparently. I was under the impression he had died on Geonosis, but apparently he is alive, well and in prison on Temako.”

Cody huffed. “Of course he is, that little  _ takisit. _ ” He paused, “no offense meant.”

Obi Wan waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t exactly know him. I suppose I soon will, though. I take it you’ve met?”

“I didn’t- don’t- know him well, but he was around while Jango trained my batch. He was good at getting in trouble, mostly. Sometimes he’d share rations he stole with the shinies, though.” Cody answered. “He wasn’t exactly one of us, but the only others on Kamino were the Cuy’val Dar and the Kaminii. You could usually find him with the younger shinies.”

Obi Wan nodded. “Well, I do have experience with trouble making younglings. I did manage to keep Anakin alive, after all. I suppose he can’t be worse.”

“Rex might disagree there, sir.” Cody retorted. “What are you going to do with the boy?”

Obi Wan shifted. “I’m not yet certain. I suppose I could arrange shelter at the temple for him, though I fear he would feel rather alienated, even if he somehow doesn’t share Jango’s opinions of Jedi. I do have contacts on Mandalore who may be able to care for him. You’ve met the boy- would he be a suitable initiate for a clan?”

“I don’t doubt he’s  _ mandokarla.  _ Jango wouldn't have let his son be anything else. But given the situation on Mandalore, I’m not sure sending the ex Mand’alor’s son to be fostered would go well. Coruscant would be safer but… Prime died on Geonosis. If Boba was there, sending him to the order alone might not be safe, for him or anyone else.”

“I fear you may be right.” Obi Wan sighed. “I hate to say it, but he may be safer here on the front than in a settled location. Likely more comfortable as well, if he knows some of your brothers at least peripherally.”

“He’s technically a youngling, so at worst you can leave him with Waxer.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure Boil would thank me for giving him a foundling.” Obi Wan laughed. “The men won’t take issue with his presence?” He asked, more solemnly. 

“If any of them are really that hung up on it, they’re delusional. We all knew how Jango saw us. If they try to blame the kid for that, I’ll deal with it personally.” Cody replied. He sounded surprisingly defensive, of a child he professed not to know. “He didn’t ask for his life any more than any of us did. Just because he’s not a brother, that doesn’t mean there’s any reason to mistreat him.”

Obi Wan nodded. “I appreciate it. And as I said, I understand the men will come to you with questions. I understand you’ll want to be honest, but I would appreciate keeping details to the bare minimum.”

“Of course. I’ll do my best to wrangle the shiny gossip, sir.”

“I know for a fact the shinies aren’t the only ones who gossip.”

“No idea what you mean, sir.” Cody said wryly. He sipped his drink, and his expression grew more serious. “If I may…”

“Yes?”

“I just want you to know that I appreciate how well you’ve always treated the men. I see now that it must have been difficult.”

Obi Wan frowned. “Why would it be difficult?”

Cody glanced away, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I remember hearing the explosions, during the fight on Kamino. If it wasn’t for us, you wouldn’t have had to fight your own  _ riduur.  _ And now to see his face all around you, every day... _ ” _

“Cody…” Obi Wan said softly, taking in the Commander’s quietly defeated tone. “Cody, listen to me.”

Cody looked up again and met his eyes. 

“Jango’s actions were his own. I can’t say I understand why he made the choices he did, or why he allied himself with Dooku. But, none of that reflects on you or any of the  _ vode.”  _ Obi Wan said seriously. “I admit, your faces took some getting used to. But you are all very different people with personalities and Force signatures as unique as any species. What few aspects of any of you that do remind me of Jango are only the best parts of him. Please do not feel that my history with him reflects on you or the men in any way.” 

Cody shifted under the praise, but nodded. “If you say so.”

  
Obi Wan smiled. “Of course. I will answer any questions you have to the best of my ability, but,” He stood. “Well. I suppose I will need to inform the council.”

“I certainly don’t envy you that meeting. Though General Koon will likely be sympathetic. You didn’t hear it from me, but Wolffe calls him  _ buir  _ when he’s drunk.” Cody said.

“Plos has always had a fondness for foundlings. He brought Ahsoka to the Temple, as well as several Kel Dor initiates.”

Cody stood as well. “We’ll look after Boba, sir. We’d look after any  _ ade  _ of yours.”

Obi Wan paused. “I suppose he is that, isn’t he. Goodness.” He breathed. A thought occurred to him. 

“I suspect Anakin won’t be pleased.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another thank you to everyone for your comments and kudos!! you're all so nice omg  
> I hope Obi Wan doesn't come off as too wooden in this chapter. I'm trying to portray the kind of detached facade he maintains in most of his appearances- rest assured the feels are coming, as we learn more about (and he is forced to confront) his time with Jango. Things will slowly happen! We're gonna force this man to cry. I swear it.  
> Also this chapter isn't meant to be anti Qui Gon, but... the man shouldn't have been a teacher tbh  
> Edit: should have clarified earlier that im playing very fast and loose with the pre tpm timeline. So on mon gazza obi wan would have been in his late teens and jango in his early to mid 20s. This is the ship that exists almost entirely to discuss difficult issues and moral grey areas so. I assume we are all on the same page lmao.

_ Obi Wan didn’t really know how long shifts in the mines were. If he had to guess, perhaps two Coruscant days; though after long enough in the mines time became relative, narrowed only to the tunnel you were crawling through and the spice residue coating your mouth and lungs, ineffectively filtered by the rags wrapped around your face.  _

_ The male and female slaves lived mostly separately, only interacting in the Mines themselves. Obi Wan supposed it was too expensive to replace the slaves who died in the results of pregnancy mixed with Spice exposure. He vaguely remembered Bant once saying an issue in the free healer’s clinic the Order ran on the lower levels of Coruscant was the violent illness that resulted from Spice addiction in pregnant beings.  _

_ He slept in the same shack he had woken up in on the first night; him, two Twi’lek men, a elderly Zabrak with intricate tattooing, three other humans and, of course, the Mandalorian. _

_ Obi Wan didn’t quite know what to make of Jango Fett. He was not a kind man, certainly. He spit vitriol and had a violence about him that was contained only by the electro-whips of the guards. His scarred back was a testament to that.  _

_ But on the third night. When Obi Wan began to feel the effects of raw Spice exposure and shivered tough aching coughing fits, Jango had lifted him from his own sick and wiped him clean. He spit the word Jetii like it was the worst possible curse, but he pulled his own threadbare blanket over Obi Wan’s shivering form that night, gave him his own water the next day. _

_ Obi Wan didn’t understand, but he was grateful.  _

* * *

  
Obi Wan broke the news privately to Mace and Yoda at the end of a holo call with the council. He requested a private audience with the two; he had honestly not expected it to be a major issue. Certainly unusual, perhaps difficult to spin to the press, but nothing so terribly unheard of- the boy technically wasn’t even his child. He hadn’t lied, as he hadn’t actually known about Jango’s apparent manipulation of Republic paperwork. 

The revelation of his relation to the Fett clan was, apparently, quite unexpected. He had only just begun to explain when Mace uncharacteristically interrupted. 

“Excuse me, Kenobi. Did you just say a result of your… marriage?” His voice sounded carefully blank. 

“Yes. From my time away from the Order.”

“You took a leave of absence from the Order to fight in a planetary civil war. That was the understanding of the Council.”

“I did fight on Melida/Daan, yes. For about 6 months. The other year of my time away was spent on Mon Gazza.” At the confused glance Mace shot at Yoda’s holo, Obi Wan continued. “After my capture? I was under the impression that Master Qui Gon informed the Council of all relevant events that took place during my absence.” 

“Knew of your leaving Melida/Daan, and of your marriage, Qui Gon Jinn did?” Yoda asked. 

Obi Wan nodded carefully. “He did. He was the Jedi sent by the Republic to negotiate with the leaders of Mon Gazza. That’s how he found me. He was aware of my marriage to Jango, and assured me that there was no issue with the Council, as I had been formally expelled from my Padawanship when the vows were made.”

Mace’s holo leaned forward, expression furrowed. “I think you had better tell us what you think we already know about that time.”

So, with a sinking feeling of dread, Obi Wan did. He told them the tale, from Master Qui Gon’s demand to return his lightsaber to his capture and enslavement, his loss of the Force, his marriage to Jango after winning their freedom and his reunification with his Master that led to their separation.

“That’s all, really.” He said lightly. “Of course, I would not have made the same choices had I been considered a Padawan at the time. I was grateful that the Council allowed me to return to the Order.”

“Expelled from the Order, you were not. A Padawan, you always were.” Yoda said. 

Obi Wan smiled his Negotiator smile delicately. “I’m sorry Grand-Master, but that is impossible. Master Qui Gon was quite clear on the issue. My braid was cut and saber returned.”

“Qui Gon told the Council you had taken a formal hiatus in your training on Melida/Daan, as an extension of your diplomatic and military focus.” Mace said. 

“Pardon?” Obi Wan asked. He could feel his mask beginning to slip. 

“A unofficial liaison with the Jedi, Qui Gon explained you were. Not a Republic planet, Melida/Daan was. Attempt to help achieve peace, you did with the Young. In communication with you, Qui Gon was.” Yoda said. 

“Our goal was peace, yes. But I was not in communication with Master Qui Gon during that time. As I said, I was expelled from my Padawanship.”

“The Council never approved such a decision. Reports were filed in your name. I take it you did not write those reports.” Mace replied. 

“No. I did not.”

Mace’s image leaned back and sighed. “Sith hells, Jinn.”

“Allowed a Padawan to be expelled for protecting life, we would not have. Left a Padawan to be enslaved, we would not have. Unaware, the Council was.” Yoda said. 

“Yes, Master, I’m beginning to understand that.” Obi Wan paused, “I understand if these revelations affect my standing with the Order. I did not intend to deceive the Council, but it appears I have done so.”

“Affect, it does not. Pass trials, you did. Care for you, it seems Jango Fett did, when should have, your Master. Deception on your part, this is not. On part of Qui Gon Jinn, this is.”

“I thank you for your understanding, Masters.”

“Yet another duty you now have, Obi Wan. To son of Jango Fett.”

“It will be a challenge,” Obi Wan replied, “but I honestly don’t think Boba has anywhere else to go. Jango had many enemies. I assume that’s why he formally tied me to his son.”

“The Order could rehome the boy. There are non-Force sensitives who work with the Corps.” Mace said. 

“I fear he may not see the logic in surrendering him to the Order. He was on Geonosis.” Obi Wan said. 

Mace’s eyebrow twitched in a way that would have been a flinch on another man. “Obi Wan, you understand that I don’t relish violence. Had I been aware of your… connection to Jango Fett, I would have broached the issue of his death with you earlier.”

Obi Wan held up a hand. “I don’t mean to imply otherwise. Jango was a warrior, before anything else. I imagine he understood the risk he was taking. However, I cannot ask Boba to ignore the manner of his father’s death. I have the impression they were very close.”

There had been a great deal to meditate on, after Geonosis. The Clone army, Dooku’s betrayal, Anakin’s injury and impending knighthood. 

Jango Fett had lingered at the back of Obi Wan’s mind for so long, a quiet ghost who made himself known only on dark, vulnerable nights. There had been no reason to broach the subject of his death- Obi Wan had never spoken about Mon Gazza in any detail to anyone but Qui Gon. He had drunkenly confessed to Quinlan, many years before Geonosis, but the other man was deep in his work as a shadow and far removed from Obi Wan’s own life. 

He had meditated on Jango’s face, as he had known him, so different a man from the one he had fought on Kamino. Another life, one he had left long ago.

There was nothing, really, left to say. Certainly nothing to say to a fellow council member, head of the Order at that.

Mace’s holo nodded. “Regardless. I apologize for any distress the event caused you.”

“I appreciate your concern.” Obi Wan replied. “Unless you have further questions, Masters, I should prepare to meet Boba on Temako. We’ll continue to Alderaan as planned afterwards, unless anything unexpected occurs.”

“Report on the boy’s well being, you should. A great loss, he has suffered.” Yoda said. 

“Indeed. May the Force be with you, my Masters.” Obi Wan said, before closing the comm. 

It was time to ready himself for Temako. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boba will actually show up soon I promise lol


	4. interlude: Cody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick interlude with Cody and Rex. Some Cody crushing, some hints that maybe he's not as neutral about Jango as he lets on.

“It’s not funny.” Cody grumbled at a cackling Rex, who was apparently having the time of his life on the other end of the holo-call. 

“It’s a bit funny. I mean, you’ve been pining for, what, a year-”

“I am not  _ pining- _ ”

“And you find out not only was he  _ married to Prime _ , he’s basically the kid’s stepmother.” Rex hooted. 

“Kriff, don’t phrase it like that.” Cody sighed, running a hand over his face. “It’s going to be damned weird having that kid around.”

“What, jealous you stopped being Jango’s favorite as soon as Boba could walk?”

“Jango didn’t have favorites, he had a few clones who he didn’t actively try to concuss in training. Didn’t stop him decommissioning half my kriffing batch.” Cody replied. 

“I think that’s the same thing, with someone like him. That’s still how Fox is.”

“Fox is a anal-retentive bastard.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Cody sighed. Fox  _ was  _ a lot like Jango, in the same brutal kind of way Alpha was. 

“The kid pranced around like a little  _ alor  _ on Kamino. So have fun with that on your ship.” Rex said. 

“If he thinks he’s getting off easy, he has another thing coming,” Cody said. “He’s just like any other shiny.”

“We both know that’s not true. Even if he wasn’t somehow the General’s kid, you and Jango-”

“Me and Jango nothing. He picked on the CC class. That’s it.” Cody snapped. 

Rex’s image held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave it alone.” Cody knew that was a blatant lie, but he decided to take his peace where he could get it. “All that aside, I’ll have to wrangle Skywalker over this. You know how he gets. But if you need me, I can get Ahsoka on it while you and I do damage control on the little  _ alor.”  _

“Thanks, Rex.” Cody said. 

“Of course. Plus, it lets me put Hardcase on shiny-wrangling duty next time he gets on my nerves.” Rex paused, smirked. “Hey, at least now you know Kenobi doesn’t think you’re ugly-”

“ _ Kriff off,  _ Rex.” Cody hissed, jabbing the button to end the call to the sound of his brother’s laughter. 

He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. 

It was going to be a long trip to Temako.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> murder baby is here! he's bad now and he's only going to get worse before anyone is allowed to have a feeling.

_ When the dust had settled on the final fight in the centre of Miner’s Town, Obi Wan found Jango kneeling in front of the body of Master Gansha, covered in as much blood as the dying man in front of him. Gansha had a vibroblade shoved through his left eye. He was gurgling blood as Jango watched him with a removed expression, seemingly content to watch the man drown in his own blood.  _

_ Obi Wan knelt on the other side of the body, staring down at the man who has caused him and Jango and every other slave on Mon Gazza so much pain. The electro whip scars on his back tugged as he shifted, drawing his long vibro knife from his sleeve. He moved to bring it to the man’s throat, end his life once and for all, but Jango grabbed his hand.  _

_ “Don’t.” He croaked. “I want to watch him suffer.” _

_ Obi Wan laid a hand over Jango’s, leaned across the body to press his forehead into the other man’s, bloody skin slick against each other. “It’s over, Jango. Let me end it.” _

_ Jango met his eyes, then reached over and took the knife from his hand. “I’ll do it, then.” _

_ With characteristic efficiency, he slit the man’s throat. Obi Wan watched in a detached sort of way, trying not to feel a degree of satisfaction watching the Master bleed.  _

_ Jango stood, regarded the gathered crowd of the few dozen remaining slaves, and raised his bloody fist into the air.  _

_ With a cry that Obi Wan imagined he would have been able to feel in the Force, the beings of the Miner’s Town slave camp became free.  _

* * *

There was little to see on Temako. The planet’s capital city of Temok was a standard urbanized settlement, populated by manufacturing laborers, their families and all the requisite facilities a city of a million or so beings would require. The prison Obi Wan took a shuttle to was small; more of a holding facility for smugglers who had run on the wrong side of Keizar-Volvec law enforcement. It was the kind of anonymous Outer Rim planet where one could disappear into the throng of dock workers easily enough. While technically a part of the Republic, one would have little interaction with government forces unless they ran afoul of them. Which, of course, it seemed Boba had. 

Cody had assisted on accompanying Obi Wan to the facility, clearly not trusting that the whole affair wasn’t some complicated setup. 

Obi Wan thought it was sweet that the Commander thought tier lives were ever going to be that straightforward. 

The Twi’lek woman who had commed him in the first place was the one to greet them; she still looked deeply disapproving, which Obi Wan supposed was fair. From her perspective he was some reluctant deadbeat father with a delinquent son. 

It wasn’t terribly dissimilar to how Mace looked at him on occasion during Anakin’s childhood, come to think of it. 

“Lady Nadishir. Lovely to meet you.” Obi Wan said. “May I introduce Commander Cody, my second in command.”

The twi’lek woman’s eyes flicked to both of them briefly, then with a flip of green lekku she turned and began marching away. 

With a glance at Cody, Obi Wan followed. There was little else he could do. 

* * *

The journey through the prison felt longer than it should, given the small size of the place. That was partly due to Obi Wan’s own uncertainty of what to expect up arriving at his destination, and partly due to the scathing questions he was being asked. 

“You’ve registered the boy for a Republic educational module, I assume?” She asked, in the tone of a woman who very much did not think he had done so. 

He had not. 

“Well, no. I am a teacher, however. I have successfully graduated a Padawan; I am certain the standards of the Jedi are no less rigorous than those of the Republic. I look forward to carrying out the boy’s education.” He replied. 

“Hm. And he’ll be housed according to Republic standard?”

“He’ll be on a Republic cruiser, so I do hope so.” Obi Wan attempted to smile. He thought, privately, that there were many children in the Republic in far more precarious circumstances than Boba appeared to be, but he did appreciate the woman’s clear care for the younglings in her charge. It was just, frankly, a little intimidating to deal with. 

It felt like a small eternity before they finally reached the room where Boba was apparently waiting. The door opened, and there sat the cloned son of Jango Fett. His darker eyes marked him apart from cadet age clones, but otherwise he could have donned a uniform and fit in with any class on Kamino. 

Apart, of course, from the venomous expression that he donned upon seeing Obi Wan enter the room. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Obi Wan blinked. “Ah. Well.”

“I said your legal guardian would be arriving today to escort you, Boba.” Lady Nadishir said.

“You said it would be my father’s  _ riduur.  _ This is a  _ jetii. _ ” Boba spit. “My father wouldn’t marry a  _ jetii.”  _ He looked past Obi Wan, eyes widening in apparent recognition of Cody standing at his shoulder. It was always fascinating how Clones were able to recognize each other without any Force ability, Obi Wan thought absently. “ _ Kote _ ?” He asked, and Obi Wan felt Cody stiffen beside him in a way that implied, perhaps, he knew Boba a little better than he had let on. 

“Boba.” Cody replied, voice steady as ever.

“What is this?” Boba asked. “My  _ father  _ wouldn’t have married a  _ jetii. _ ” He repeated, as though that would make it true. 

“Jango did a lot of things you don’t know about.” Cody replied, and well, if that wasn’t ominous. 

“I wasn’t a Jedi at the time, if it helps. I admit I was as surprised by this development as you were. Regardless, I exchanged vows with your father, and while I don’t know why exactly he left you in my care I don’t intend to leave you to the whims of the galaxy.” Obi Wan said. 

“I’d rather go to prison.” Boba hissed. 

“Well, I suppose that is your right. Though I must say it doesn’t seem terribly exciting around here- no offense intended, ma’am.” Obi Wan said. “I thought you may be interested in seeing more of the galaxy, beyond what Kamino and Temako have to offer. There are many places outside the ports of the Outer Rim.”

Boba narrowed his eyes, a childish expression of suspicion on his features. 

He certainly hadn’t inherited Jango’s sabbac fcce, Obi Wan thought. 

“You won’t make me go to Coruscant? To your  _ council. _ ” He said the word with a more genuine vitriol than he had  _ jetii.  _ It was understandable, Obi Wan supposed. Geonosis had been largely the council’s showing, after all. 

Obi Wan shook his head. “No. I’m seldom there, myself. You’d your complete education modules aboard my ship, the  _ Negotiator.  _ I’m certain you’ll also be able to continue your language and combat training alongside the members of the 212th. Several of the men have trained cadets before.”

“I’m not one of them. I’m not some clone cadet.” Boba frowned, and that was sure to be a source of conflict that would cause Obi Wan a headache later. 

He held his hands up placatingly; it was not the time to debate the specieshood of Boba or the clones, at least not until the paperwork to get off planet was filed. 

“Regardless, I mean to say both your academic and cultural education will continue. I don’t believe the Temako public system includes Mando’a or historical note on the history of Concord Dawn in it’s modules.”

It was a dirty play, to present a Mandalorian child with a choice between his language or a lack of it. But Obi Wan hadn’t gotten his title for nothing, and he did not intend to leave Boba on Temako to, more than likely, escape and become another violent teen abandoned on the Rim. 

“What do you say? I understand your hesitancy, but I do think this is your best option. If you truly hate it, we’ll arrange something else. But I have successfully raised one child, so I’m not likely to fail you too spectacularly.”

“I don’t need  _ looking after. _ ” Boba scowled. 

“Of course you do. Everyone does.” Obi Wan replied cheerfully. He held out his hand. “Well? Do we have a deal?”

With what looked like a great deal of trepidation and a put upon frown that could put Anakin to shame, Boba sighed and took Obi Wan’s arm. 

“Deal.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> incredibly short update but if i dont get momentum on this ill just. abandon it. so. rip another cliffhanger sorry boys.

If there was one thing young Boba appeared to have in common with his father, it was that he was difficult to impress. The  _ Negotiator  _ certainly wasn’t enough to manage it, though Obi Wan supposed that the best Republic technology available was only barely a match to the baseline of Kamino. 

He attempted to project a sense of calm to the tense boy; Boba wasn’t quite so Force-null as Jango, though certainly more so than some of the troopers. Obi Wan had long suspected that Jango’s resistance to the Force was more to do with that man’s stubbornness than a total lack of sensitivity; he was not overtly sensitive by any means, but no one was truly detached from the Force, regardless of midichlorian count. 

The Troopers had been informed of Boba’s arrival beforehand, and so made at least some effort not to stop what they were doing to stare at Obi Wan passing with his hand on the boy’s shoulder. Cody stayed at his shoulder, still tense like he was prepared for Boba to break rank and attack; perhaps not an entirely unrealistic fear, given the boy’s surly nature, but Obi Wan was slightly miffed that Cody thought he needed protecting from a nine year old boy. 

He graciously pretended not to notice Waxer sharply elbow a cargo bay pilot for too loudly whispering the latest gossip; it was far more exciting than Obi Wan thought his life had really been, but he didn’t begrudge the men the entertainment. 

Boba and Cody did not address each other again on the walk to the wing housing the officer’s quarters, in which Obi Wan attempted to project the same kind of calm he utilized in hostage negotiations and particularly nasty sieges. In truth, he had no clue what to do with Boba; however unconventional Anakin’s padawanship had been, there had at least been a baseline standard of conduct. He had not been the first Padawan to join the Order later in life; not even the first to do so from Tatooine. But there were no treatises written on how to care for the cloned son of your not quite ex-husband with whom you shared a few thousand years worth of ethnic tension and a particularly nasty breakup. To say nothing of the cultural intricacies of the Clones, whose society within the barracks of Kamino Obi Wan had to admit he was not fully aware of the intricacies of. He had never wanted to pry, as Force knew the men deserved to keep something to themselves. But he had a feeling there were levels of baggage he was going to have to become privy to if he was to, to phrase it as Anakin or Ahsoka might, keep young Boba from ‘going postal’. 

“We can stop by the mess, if you’re hungry.” Obi Wan said. “Or if you’re tired from the day, I can simply show you to your room.”

Boba shrugged, and made a grunting sound that once again reminded Obi Wan intimately of a younger Anakin- or a current Anakin, for that matter. He really hadn’t changed much since he was 12. 

“Perhaps some sleep, then.” Obi Wan said. “If you are hungry later I’m certain you can find your way to the mess. There are usually Troopers awake, if you get lost.”   
“No sneaking in anywhere,” Cody added. “Like the firing range or the engine room.” He glanced at Obi Wan. “He shorted out the power for a whole block of sleep pods once.”

Boba made a sound that might have been a laugh. 

“Well. Perhaps we’ll avoid that, hm?” Obi Wan replied. “Here we are.” He stopped outside the doors for what was usually one of the guest quarters of the ship. “My quarters are just across the hall, and Cody is just a little further down. Do you need anything?” He asked. 

“My father tried to kill you.” Boba spoke shortly. “Why would he tell you to take care of me? Even if you weren’t a  _ jetii.  _ I’ve never even heard of you before you came to Kamino. Why wouldn’t my father tell me about his own  _ riduur _ ?”

“I don’t know.” Obi Wan replied honestly. “We knew each other a very long time ago. Prior to coming upon you both on Kamino, I hadn’t spoken to him in 15 years.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I suppose not.” Obi Wan said. “However, he seemed to trust that I would care for you. I don’t know why he made that decision, but I will do my best to honor it.”

Boba frowned, his nose crinkling in an expression startlingly like his father’s. He was Jango’s clone, Obi Wan supposed. In a way none of the Troopers could be, Boba was Jango’s child, very much like him in mannerisms and attitude, not simply genetics. 

Obi Wan’s comm chimed- Anakin. The GAR’s gossip mill truly moved with startling efficiency; the intelligence division could only dream of such success. 

It rapidly chimed again. 

“Any more questions?” He asked Boba. 

Anakin could do with waiting for a moment. 

“I guess not.” Boba answered, still looking generally unsatisfied and put-off. Obi Wan knew the feeling. 

“Well then. Goodnight, Boba.” Obi Wan nodded, gesturing the door closed and turning around to face Cody. 

“That went well.” Obi Wan said mildly. “Is whatever tiff you two are having going to become an issue?”

Cody twitched in a way that might have been a full bodied flinch on another man. 

“No, General. My apologies.”

Obi Wan sighed. “Cody, I don’t exactly have the grounds to criticize you for having a messy history with the Fett clan. I just hope you trust me enough to tell me anything you think I need to know.”

Cody nodded. “There’s nothing happening that will affect the functionality of the 212th.”

That was very much not what Obi Wan had asked, but he was far from having the right to demand honesty on the topic from Cody of all people. 

His comm chimed again; twice in succession, this time, as Anakin attempted to call him.

Cody arched an eyebrow at him.

“If you could perhaps find some very complicated issue for Captain Rex to bring before Anakin in the next few hours, I would be much obliged.” He said. 

Cody’s mouth twitched. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.” 

“Excellent.”

Another chime.

“Well. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm incapable of updating with chapters of any decent length.  
> However, some vague allusions to plot?  
> Also, Boba in the Mandalorian???? our boy...  
> This chapter is half crack and half me trying to parse through Jango as a person. He's... complicated.

_Obi Wan still felt the loss of his force ability like a lost limb._

_There was no way to remove the chips. They were the type that latched onto the spine. Slaves in the spice mines were not intended to survive a long time, never mind a trip off world. There was no reason to make them transportable._

_It made contacting anyone on the outside difficult. Mon Gazza was self sufficient enough, and the non-slave holding population had been willing enough to trade labour for supplies readily enough so far. But they had to be ready to stand on their own, should that change. They could not rely on those who had kept them in bonds, Jango insisted._

_Obi Wan clung to Jango like he had once clung to the Force. His whole life, the Force had been his constant companion. At his loneliest, his most hopeless, he had been able to fall back onto the presence of it, the only steady thing in the vast galaxy; not warm, not friendly, but constant._

_Jango snorted in dismissal when Obi Wan spoke of the Force; it was funny really, since in many ways they were so similar._

_Immovable, surrounding, impossible to either understand or resist. Obi Wan curled against Jango each night, even now that they had beds and blankets, no longer sequestered to cold sheds and chains. He had half excepted that Jango would dismiss him now that they were free, that he would dismiss Obi Wan as he had been dismissed from his Master’s side, back on Melida/Daan. But he didn’t. He still let Obi Wan hold him through the night, head pressed to Jango’s broad chest, listening to his heartbeat like he had once listened to the flow of the living Force. He still whispered in Mando’a, what had once sounded guttural and sharp now the sweetest music Obi Wan knew, could calm his heart or make it race as Jango wished._

_Obi Wan had the dangerous thought, those early days and weeks after they clawed their way to freedom, that this may become his home._

* * *

Obi Wan’s comm continued buzzing and chiming all the way to his bunk. For a man who was chronically incapable of answering his own messages from the moment he landed on Coruscant and escaped to the Senate apartments, Anakin certainly demanded efficiency from others.

He let it chirp twice more before placing the unit on his desk and answering. 

“Hello, Padawan-mine.”

“So, I just heard a crazy rumour.” Anakin immediately started. 

Obi Wan sighed. “You should really stop gossiping with the ARC troops. They love to exaggerate.”

“So there’s something to exaggerate about, then?” Anakin asked suspiciously. 

Obi Wan allowed himself a short sigh. 

“Is there something in particular I can help you with, Anakin?”

“I don’t know, I mean, is there another piece of Mandalorian related drama I should know about?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Obi Wan replied. 

“Right. So, Jango Fett’s son isn’t on your ship right now.”

Obi Wan was not one to subscribe to the method of praying to the Living Force, not like his master had, but in that moment he considered it. 

“He is.” He answered. 

“Huh.” Anakin said. “You should send out a briefing about that or something, because a few of my pilots were going on about gossip, something about you breaking your vows as a padawan? It was pretty funny, I mean, it’s _you._ The boys think you do all kinds of crazy things.”

“Do they, indeed?” 

“Yeah, I mean- hey Spotter, what was the one you heard?” Anakin asked a trooper off frame. “Yeah!” He laughed. “That you ran off and married Jango Fett. Good, right? We’ve gotta get the men on leave, they’re going stir crazy.” Anakin grinned, clearly certain that his boring old Master had never done something so scandalous as marrying a Mandalorian. 

“Well, I wouldn’t phrase it as ‘running off’, certainly. Had either of us had the option to run anywhere I doubt anything would have occurred at all.”

“Yeah, right-” Anakin laughed again, before his face froze and he looked at Obi Wan in confusion. “Wait, what?”

Obi Wan sighed. “I was under the impression the details were recorded in my service log. I was only recently informed that was not the case.”

“Hold on- in your service log? Wait, you mean you- no, come on. No way.”

“Anakin…”

“You’re telling me you, _you,_ ran off and had some kind of affair? With the _clone template_?”

“Anakin, please tell me you aren’t standing on the bridge right now.”

“No, wait- yeah, Ahsoka, I’m asking, just a minute- Master, what?”

“Anakin.”

“Just- no, hold on. We’re in the Mid Rim, I’m meeting you on Alderaan.” Anakin said, gesturing to someone off camera.

“Anakin, you can’t redirect your ship because you’re worked up about some gossip-”

“This is not gossip, this is- I’m coming to meet you, Master.”

“You’re coming to meet… Anakin, I can’t get you into the Council room on time under threat of death, and you’re redirecting an entire Destroyer for this?”

“You bet your ass I am, this is- _what,_ Rex?” He snapped. “I’m busy. What do you mean, blew up? Just-”

“Please go run your ship, Anakin.” Obi Wan said shortly, ending the call. His comm promptly chirped again.

“Yes?” He asked tiredly. 

“Sir, we’re receiving… a distress signal, from the 501st?” One of the bridge officers spoke. 

“Oh for- dismiss any calls from General Skywalker, please, Looper.”

“Uh.. yes, sir.” 

* * *

Boba turned over the tiny comm that dad's client had given him. His father had died on the job, hadn’t completed his contract. So it was Boba’s job now. To collect Kenobi and bring him to Count Dooku. 

Boba hated Dooku. Hated him even before his father told him about Galidraan, though that had only worsened it. He didn't see how paying for clones now made up for killing his fathers family and his men before. How that made him any more trustworthy than any other Jedi. 

But Dooku had found him after Geonosis, promised him that if he could get Kenobi to Dooku then he would help Boba kill Mace Windu. Help him get revenge on his father’s killer. Dooku might have been a right bastard, but Boba figured no one knew how to kill a Jedi better than a Sith. 

He hadn't really thought about what it would be like to be surrounded by clones again. 

Boba had called the clones his brothers once. He hadn't made that mistake again. 

Father had talked about them as flesh droids, products that were to be used and disposed of as needed. They weren't his sons, he said, not like Boba. Even if they'd come from the same growth tanks. 

But droids didn’t get taught Mando'a, weren't taught the resol'nare or legends. Boba had never been left in a droid's care, even though there were lots of them available. He had never pointed these things out to his father, even though he had wanted to. It got easier, as the cadets he trained with outgrew him so quickly, to see them as… something else. Not natural, not real beings. It got harder to do so again as more and more of them came to bear his father’s face. 

It was strange to see Kote again- or Cody, now. So loyal to a Jedi, just like his father had trained the clones to be. Boba had made sure not to learn too many of the clones’ names. As soon as he could help it he started to keep his distance. He didn’t want his father to see him that way; Jango didn’t spend much time with the cadets, preferring to train the command class or ARCs. Boba had spent time with them when he had been too young to know better. Them, and Kote. 

His earliest memories were of Kote. They shouldn’t have been, and he shouldn’t have even been able to tell the man apart from thousands of other clones he saw every day (even though he could tell them apart, always and easily). He remembered Kote being in Jango’s quarters when his father was gone; the memories were fuzzy and vague, a voice murmuring stories in Mando’a, holding Boba close to his side as he pressed into the warmth of another person. His _buir_ hadn’t… held him, that way. He’d place a hand on Boba’s shoulder or ruffle his hair if he’d done especially well in a training simulation, but he’d always been clear on boundaries. Boba needed to be strong, to hold his own in a galaxy that would only ever be against them. They had each other, could only trust each other. But now Boba didn’t have his father. He needed to be strong. He needed to honourable. Seeing Kote again had made him feel like a child. He couldn’t afford that, not if he was going to succeed. These clones, these imitations of his father; he wasn’t one of them. He needed to remember that. 

He would do what he needed to do, and he would do it alone. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting with Cody this chapter. He has... thoughts, on Jango. He and Obi Wan knew a very different man...  
> Fair warning Anakin stans, the next few chapters are a little rough on him... won't be bashing but, like Cody, I have Thoughts

Seeing Boba again was… disconcerting.

Cody had accepted him as another casualty of the war, his death on Galidraan yet another example of Jango’s poor judgement. 

The poor judgement was unchanged, but Boba was alive. Here, on the  _ Negotiator.  _ Cody couldn’t say it was the last thing he had ever expected, the war had brought with it too many bizarre things for him to call Boba’s reappearance the strangest thing he’d seen. But it was certainly unexpected. 

To curry Jango’s favour on Kamino was a tricky thing. One could never be sure how it would happen or how long it would last. The Alpha class were the closest of any of the clones to being… not sons, exactly, but something more relevant to Jango than elements of a contractual obligation. Cody couldn’t have pinpointed, if asked, what it was that led him to being brought back to Jango’s quarters on Kamino that first time. He remembered Ponds’ worried stare as Cody was led away, because while Jango didn’t have a reputation for doing the kinds of things to cadets that Alaak had done, it was still on his word you could be decommissioned or made an ARC. Neither of those things had happened though; instead, Cody had found a baby pressed into his arms, instructed in no uncertain terms that the care of little Boba was his responsibility while Jango was gone. He remembered the day well, though. 

He remembered thinking he’d have to make up the training, maybe bribe Wolffe (then just 3636) to share his notes. But a job from Prime was a good enough excuse even for a hardass like 17 to accept it. He’d held Boba carefully, gently like he would hold the smallest cadet. He’d been only a little bigger than a tubie, tiny and soft. It had gone on like that for a few years, at least until Boba could hold up a Blaster on his own, at 5 or 6 standard. Every once and a while Cody would be called away from class to care for Boba. It became normal, for a time, until it stopped. In hindsight, Cody figured that Jango probably hadn’t trusted the  _ Kaminii  _ with his child. The tender mercies of the longnecks were good enough for clones, but not for his real son. Cody couldn’t say he blamed him; he wouldn’t trust anyone he loved to the  _ Kaminii  _ either, if he’d ever had the choice. 

He’d taken care of Boba before. He didn’t mind doing so again, not really. It was the revelations about Obi Wan’s connection to Jango that had shaken him, more so than the boy’s presence. 

He knew, of course, that the Jedi were not the perfect durasteel images they projected to the Galaxy. One could only spend so many hours hunkered down alongside a bleeding and cursing Jedi Master under Turbo Blaster fire before realizing the legends were just that. That wasn’t to say Obi Wan didn’t carry a mythical quality about him; Cody had watched him coax defeat from certain death with a smile often enough that he could easily see why the stories of Jedi heroes were so popular, even amongst brothers. Most brothers had never had a High General pass out on them from a combination of concussion and stim overuse, though. 

Jango certainly hadn’t viewed the Jedi as heroes. 

Prime had made no secret of his history with the Order, even if he hadn’t outright advertised it. Galidraan was part of the history that the older clones had been taught, the fate of a dead clan they would never be granted access to. The stories had made them, had given them an identity, even if they were also like dangling a string of a Loth-cat. 

He had never talked about Obi Wan. 

He had spoken, briefly, of the mines of Mon Gazza, months spent toiling along Spice veins under the eye of slavers. There had been no mention of a marriage, that he had apparently sworn the  _ riduur’ok  _ on that accursed planet, made vows he had seemingly not kept. Cody didn’t pretend to understand what it meant to say those words. Some of the men had; Waxer and Boil had made their vows a few months into the war, and he knew at least a couple of Rex’s ARCs had sworn words to each other. It was apparently different for nat-borns, though the specifics eluded Cody. To a clone, the  _ riduur’ok  _ was unbreakable. Not just technically; it wasn't’ just that the words could not be unsaid, but that you did not leave the one you said them to. That vow was eternal. Apparently nat-borns did not hold to the same standard. 

Jango had abandoned Obi Wan, and Cody had no trouble picturing that. It just didn’t make sense that he had then entrusted Boba to the Jedi’s care. Boba was supposed to be different; the golden boy, the little  _ alor  _ of Kamino, Jango’s chosen son. He wasn’t supposed to get left alone with the rest of them. 

It was Cody’s problem, now. Something else Jango had delegated, left behind for one of his clones to address. Alpha-17 would find it funny, Cody supposed. 

He had meant what he had said, though; he would care for any child of Obi Wan’s, even one who was only so by legal technicality. He would take care of Boba. That was now, as it had so long ago been, his duty. 

* * *

Anakin strode aboard the Negotiator with all the pomp he tended towards, apparently accompanied a few dozen of Torrent Company. 

Obi Wan sighed. The men would enjoy seeing their brothers, at least, and he could trust Rex to keep a handle on things back with the rest of the 501st. The troopers dispersed quickly, dismissed by Anakin to navigate the familiar halls of the  _ Negotiator  _ in search of their brothers and friends. They were technically on leave, Obi Wan supposed, and there was no harm in it. 

Obi Wan had hoped, in vain, that Ahsoka might stay onboard her own ship, rather than trailing behind Anakin like a particularly curious tooka-kit as her master strode across the hangar. It was seldom that he was unhappy to see his grand-padawan, but he had felt enough humiliation in recent days that the thought of her being present for the inevitable airing of his dirty laundry to Anakin was... disquieting, at least. 

He had dismissed Cody to the bridge; his commander’s readiness to defend him against his own student was both a matter he was aware of and one he had no wish to address before he absolutely had to do so. 

“Master,” Anakin frowned, coming to a stop before him. “We need to talk.”

“Anakin, lovely to see you.” Obi Wan replied. He turned to Ahsoka. “How has your meditation been coming along, Ahsoka?” He asked. 

She blinked, glancing briefly towards Anakin before replying to Obi Wan with a smile. “I’m progressing well, master. The recording of a guided meditation you made for me has been helpful.”

He smiled back at her, genuine. “I’m glad to hear it. Please tell me if you would like a recording of another exercise, for when we are apart.”

“Thank you, master.” Ahsoka replied. Her curiosity and tension were clear, though she made a noble effort to control both her body language and the shielding of her emotions. She was, truly, an excellent student.

“Master.” Anakin said again, with more emphasis. 

“Anakin.” Obi Wan repeated. He sighed. “Yes, alright. Let us at least go somewhere private.”

Anakin at least waited until they had reached Obi Wan’s quarter’s before rounding on him. 

“Master,  _ what  _ is going on here?”

Anakin had a tendency still to puff himself up like a young Bothan when he was angry, as though he needed to appear larger in order to get his point across. It had not impressed Obi Wan when Anakin was a boy, and did not do so now. 

“Tea?” He asked. “I’ve gotten a new blend from Concord Dawn, it’s rather sweet.”

“I don’t want  _ tea,  _ I want to know what’s going on here.” Anakin’s metal hand met the table with a  _ thunk.  _

“I think I’ll make some. Ahsoka?” Obi Wan asked. 

“No thank you, Master.” She replied. Her bottom lip caught on a fang as she obviously wrestled with joining her her master’s questioning. 

“I think I’ll make a pot, in case you change your mind.” 

“Enough with the tea!” Anakin all but shouted. “Why is Jango Fett’s son here? What’s going on?”

“Control your emotions, Anakin.” Obi Wan intoned, for what he was certain was the millionth time. “Please sit down.”

“Control my- are you really going to preach the code right now? When you just admitted that you  _ married a Mandalorian? _ ” Anakin demanded. 

The door opened, then -Obi Wan hadn’t locked it- to reveal Boba standing on the other side. He was holding what appeared to be a small vibro-knife in front of him, scowling in a way that was once again quite reminiscent of his father. 

Anakin stopped his gesturing to look at him, and Ahsoka peered around her master. 

“Boba.” Obi Wan greeted. “May I ask why you are brandishing a weapon?”

It was good to be prepared, he supposed, though he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the boy running around armed. Though perhaps he would have to make cultural allowances. 

“I heard shouting.” Boba replied. He appeared ready to spring into motion at any time. 

“I see. Well, since you’re here, this is Anakin, my former Padawan and General of the 501st.” Anakin didn’t speak, just stared at Boba with a baffled expression. “And Ahsoka Tano, Anakin’s Padawan and COmmander of Torrent Company.”

Anakin remained silent while Ahsoka, ever a skilled student, smiled in a manner that Obi Wan recognized as intended to be toothless enough to communicate to non-Carnivorous species that she meant no harm. 

“Hello!” She greeted Boba. The boy seemed to consider her, before nodding back cautiously, lowering his knife and tucking it behind him. 

Obi Wan would have to keep an eye on that. 

Ahsoka glanced at Obi Wan, and he smiled encouragingly. “Why don’t I let you two talk, and… I was thinking I could do some training with Ghost Company, while I’m here. Do you want to train with me, Boba? We could spar.” She asked the younger boy.    
His eyes narrowed; he really was a suspicious young thing. “... Fine. I guess.”

“Lovely.” Obi Wan said. “An excellent idea, Ahsoka. I’m sure we’ll speak later.”

“Right.” She agreed readily. Obi Wan attempted to send her a wave of gratitude in the Force. “Come on, Boba. I’ll introduce you to some of the 501st, too.”

Boba looked at Obi Wan, suddenly looking uncertain. Obi Wan nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging way. Boba seemed to accept it, and followed Ahsoka into the corridor. He did, in fact, have his knife tucked into the back of his belt. 

Once the door swished closed, Obi Wan turned back to Anakin. 

“Alright.” He said. “Perhaps you should begin asking your questions. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi Wan is emotionally constipated. Anakin engages in biblical literalism. Does Boba still have that knife? We just don't know. It's exposatory dialogue, kids.

_ Mornings in Miner’s Town were quiet, now. There were no sirens wailing through the air, no electro rods urging slaves awake. It could have been any frontier settlement on any mining planet, if one did not know better.  _

_ Obi Wan spent many mornings as he was now, staring at the lines of Jango’s back.  _

_ They had a private building; house would be a generous word, it was a small hut, but they only shared the fresher with the family next door, and had been granted their own space despite being only two people, where most others were four to a hut. The others had insisted, and Jango had accepted, and. Well. Obi Wan went where Jango did.  _

_ It let him do this, anyway. Awaken with the rays of the sun to stare at Jango’s back. It let him do this; press his hands to the scars on brown skin, the stories of which he only knew some of, trying to impart the healing he once could have provided, wishing to press away the hurts there with a will he no longer had. It let him press his lips between Jango’s shoulders, granted the illusion of being hidden there, safe from the rest of the galaxy. _

_ He would need to rise soon, they both would. There were talks to be had with leaders from another freed community today; the other party did not have the same kind of location enabled chips he and Jango had, and so were travelling to meet with Jango and himself on behalf of the freed beings of Miner’s Town. He and Jango had remained defacto representatives of the town, despite most administrative duties going to the older members of the community who had been there longer.  _

_ They had both been trained in politics, though in rather different ways.  _

_ Jango shifted, muscles in his back rippling as he came to wakefulness. He turned around, wrapping an arm around Obi Wan to pull him closer, soft and content in the early morning light in a way he so rarely was.  _

_ “You’re thinking.” He murmured.  _

_ “It’s going to be a busy day.” Obi Wan replied. Jango stroked a hand through his hair; he had let it grow out. The length let him forget the loss of the braid that once hung over his shoulder.  _

_ “Too early for politics. Go back to sleep.” Jango said. _

_ Obi Wan pressed his forehead to Jango’s chest, listening to the still steady beat there. “I’m fine like this.” _

_ “Hm.” Jango intoned. “You don’t sleep enough.” _

_ Obi Wan didn’t reply. In truth, he wasn’t used to needing as much sleep as an average human. He had always been bolstered by the Force. He wouldn’t mention that, though. It was easiest not to mention his old life. He and Jango avoided speaking of it. Instead he wrapped his arm around Jango’s chest, pressed them flush together, letting himself savour the familiar warmth of Jango’s body.  _

_ The rest of the galaxy could wait, just for now.  _

* * *

“What’s happening, Obi Wan? That was Jango Fett’s son, wasn’t it?” Anakin asked. 

“Yes. Jango apparently submitted documentation to the Republic that named me as his legal partner, and therefore Boba’s guardian in the event of his father’s death.” Obi Wan said. 

“Then… it’s not a rumour. You were married. To the clone template.”

It was odd to hear Jango referred to as such; the man had been an Outer Rim legend to some, and martyr to others, a boogeyman to many. Any passionate tales of that ilk suited the Mandalorian of Obi Wan’s memory much better than the clinical title of  _ clone template,  _ accurate though it may have been. He had never corrected it, though.

“Not in the traditional sense. However, the Mandalorian vows of the  _ riduur’ok  _ are considered equivalent to traditional marriage vows in the Republic.”

“You’ve been married this whole time? Does the council know?” Anakin asked. His voice rose in tone as his confusion increased.

“I parted ways with Jango over 15 years ago. We didn’t speak until I found him on Kamino, and as far as I was concerned our vows were no longer relevant. I was under the impression that the Council was aware of this. It turned out that they were neither aware of my relationship with Jango or my leaving the Order.” Obi Wan said. 

“You left the Order? But- you’re on the Council. You’re a perfect Jedi! How could you have left?” Anakin demanded. 

“The Order is not a prison, Anakin. May have left and later returned. Master Qui Gon gave me a choice between following his orders and leaving Melida/Daan, or staying and surrendering my lightsaber and Padawan braid.”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Anakin shook his head. 

“Master Qui Gon believed that he was following the will of the living Force. I don’t resent him for that, even if I disagree now.”

“So what, you just left, got married and came back with no consequences?”

“Master Qui Gon felt my enslavement on Mon Gazza was consequence enough for my actions.”

Anakin jolted back, eyes wide. “Enslavement… you were a slave?”

Obi Wan sighed. “Sit down, Anakin. Let me explain.”

Anakin sat across from Obi Wan, his flesh hand trembling in a clenched fist. Obi Wan attempted to explain his time of Melida/Daan, his capture and enslavement. He did not discuss Jango in detail; it was not information he had any desire to share with his Padawan, adult though he now was. 

“I was under the impression I would not be returning to the Jedi, and Jango no longer considered himself involved in Mandalorian political life. We developed a relationship and agreed to say vows. I was on Mon Gazza for about a year, at which point Master Qui Gon found me entirely by coincidence when he arrived on the planet to facilitate its integration into the Republic. When he discovered I was alive he deactivated the chip preventing me from using the Force and offered to allow my return to the Order, though apparently I was never formally expelled, as I now know.”

“And you, what, just left your husband and never talked to him again?” Anakin frowned.

“Jango had no wish to continue a relationship with a reappointed Jedi. Even if he had, our paths would seldom have crossed. We agreed that it was reasonable for us to separate and move on with our lives.” Obi Wan replied. 

“That’s ridiculous. You got  _ married _ . That doesn’t just… go away.”

“Circumstances changed.” 

“Did you love him?”

Obi Wan blinked, taken aback. 

Had he loved Jango? He had spent so long not thinking of him. Only in his weakest moments did he ever allow himself to indulge in the sense memory of his once-husband’s arms, the sound of his voice, his smell. Mon Gazza had been neatly packed away, an issue belonging to a younger man in another life. 

Jango had held him through the greatest fear he had yet known in his young life, shown him a kindness he had not been owed. 

“That isn’t relevant, I don’t think.” Obi Wan answered quietly. “I made my choice.”

“Of course it’s  _ relevant.  _ You don’t just stop loving someone!”

“You are very young, Anakin. Life is more complicated than that.”

“Oh, come on! I’m not young. I’m a Jedi Knight. I understand love; just because you want to pretend you’re some perfect Jedi who never felt anything in your life-”

“That’s hardly fair-”

“Why don’t you just admit you were in love? Is it so terrible that you felt something like a normal person?”

“I have never claimed not to feel, Anakin, I am simply not controlled by my emotions.” Obi Wan replied.

“You won’t even admit you have emotions, of course you aren’t controlled by them.”

“That is plainly untrue. Have I truly withheld affection to such a degree that you think me without feeling? Are you so desperate for me to have some torrid affair hidden away? Why is that, might I ask?” Obi Wan snapped.

“I’m trying to get you to stop being such a hypocrite! First Satine, now this? What else don’t I know about you?” Anakin demanded. 

“You have clearance to view my service record, and you are welcome to ask me questions. I don’t see what else you want.” Obi Wan replied. 

Anakin’s throat worked, his upper lip twitching in a manner that, when he was a child, indicated he was about to either shout or cry. 

Obi Wan had apparently succeeded in at least one way as a teacher, for he did neither. 

“So why won’t you answer me? If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t have married him. So why did you leave? Didn’t either of you care?”

Obi Wan sighed. 

He had never had to explain his relationship with Jango; not to his fellow captives, who had understood; not to Master Qui Gon, who had assured him the issue was in the past, and that it was the future that now mattered. Obi Wan folded his hands in front of him, attempted to sort his thoughts. 

“Even if we had wished to keep in contact- which, you must understand, Jango would not have allowed once I rejoined the Order-, the issue of marriage within the Order is one of cultural context. The  _ riduur’ok  _ is intended to emphasize duty. For all the conflict that has occured between Jedi and Mandalorians, our cultures share certain ideas; one of these is duty to the group, be it the clan or the Order, over the individual. Other Jedi have said vows that within their birth cultures that are only formalities to allow reproduction. The issue with other types of marriage, that which is practiced on Naboo, for example,” he said evenly, as Anakin flinched, and Force if he was going to address that directly, tonight or ever, “is that they ask that the partner is prioritized over the group. As Jedi, our first and only duty is to the Order and the Republic. I understood that when I left Jango, as I understand it now. Being formally excommunicated by the majority of Mandalorian society, he no longer felt the need to uphold his vow to a greater good, while I did. Does that answer your question, Anakin?”

Anakin frowned and shook his head. “That’s a series of events. It isn’t what I asked.”

“It is what I am willing to share with you.”

“Sith hells, you won’t admit anything, will you? You’re raising Jango Fett’s kriffing kid and you won’t admit you loved him.” Anakin said. 

“I apologize that I can’t say what you would like me to, Anakin.”   
“I’m just trying to understand-”

“No, you are trying to force my past to fit your present issues.”

“What are you talking about?” Anakin asked, tensing visibly. 

“I wonder.” Obi Wan said shortly. 

Anakin sucked in a breath, turning away quickly. 

“Fine. I wanted to understand, but if all you want to do is manipulate me, then there’s no point.”

“It isn’t my intention to upset you, Anakin.”

Anakin laughed harshly. “Right. Just to keep secrets from me and break your own teachings.”

“At the time, I was not-”

“Not a member of the Order. I got that.”

Anakin’s flesh hand flexed again at his side, like it might reach for his saber. 

Obi Wan watched him; he thought of the violence his student had been raised in. His Padawan, his grand-Padawan, and now Jango’s son. None of them, it seemed, were destined for peace. He would have liked, very much, for them to have lived without knowing war. 

“You should assist your men in organizing to leave for Alderaan. I’m sure Rex has his hands full.” He said, instead of voicing those thoughts. 

“I know how to take care of my own troops.” Anakin snapped. 

“I don’t mean to imply otherwise. You lead them well, Anakin.” He said. All he could do was extend the hand; he could not make Anakin take it. 

He did not. Anakin hissed behind his teeth and moved to the door. He paused there, as though he was considering speaking, or turning back. Perhaps he was waiting for Obi Wan to admit some shortcoming he had previously left unaddressed. 

He did not. With a toss of his head, Anakin left, leaving Obi Wan alone in the silence.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> timeline note: we are post invasion of Kamino; Boba didn't end up with Aurra in this au.   
> Cody is ready to fight Anakin at any time.  
> Some more not so sunny views on Kamino this chapter. Nothing more gruesome than exists in Legends, but it doesn't make Jango look good. Though make sure to remember neither Boba nor Cody have all the information regarding Jango's role on Kamino or the inner workings of the cuy'val dar.   
> thanks!

The Torgruta  _ jetti  _ led Boba through the halls of the ship, apparently towards a training room. There were clones in armor with blue painted mixed in among the yellow painted troopers Boba had seen earlier. Paint had been contraband on Kamino, but got snuck in alongside tattoo ink, piercing needles, and sewing kits. His father hadn’t bothered with punishing it, but some of the  _ Cuy’val Dar  _ had. Boba remembered once when Priest had decommissioned a CC cadet for tattooing his face. His father had said it was a waste of high scores to put him down, but by then the clone was laid out on a training hall floor with his brains leaking out of his ears, and it hadn’t mattered what Jango thought anymore.

Priest had been demoted to training CTs after that, though. It had marked a divide between the trainers, those in the  _ Cuy’val Dar  _ who were willing to purge faulty product and those who weren’t. Wad’e Tay’haii had been demoted too, a few days later, for attacking Jango after he’d refused to ban Priest from training cadets. He’d screamed at Boba’s father; called him  _ demagolka,  _ said that his clan would have been ashamed. 

Boba had stayed away from most of the clones and the trainers both, after that.

Boba followed Ahsoka, her montrails bobbing along the corridors of the ship. Kenobi had called his ship  _ The Negotiator,  _ a grand title for what Boba supposed was a top-tier ship in the Republic. On Kamino it would have been barely standard, decent enough for transport and little else. The  _ Kaminii  _ didn’t seem inclined to share any tech unrelated to genetics, though. That had never been part of the contract. 

There had been a Torgruta among the  _ Cuy’val Dar,  _ one of Mij’s foundlings, if Boba remembered right. He’d thought maybe he would see her again, or Mij, or any of the others. No one had come for him, though. That one of the ones who had fought Jango over the cadets might come for Boba too. 

He tried to shake off those thoughts as he followed Ahsoka into the training room. It didn’t matter if any of them had come for him or not. That wasn’t their job. Missing any of them, even Mij or Kal, was pointless. They were probably gone now that the war had started, anyway. Jango had been their leader, and Jango was dead. 

Ahsoka stopped a few times to talk to clones around the ship. 

“I was going to warm up with some hand to hand and katas. Want to practice with me?” Ahsoka asked him. 

Boba didn’t really want to train with this padawan. He didn’t want to be in this training hall surrounded by clones, or on this ship, or anywhere but his father’s quarters back on Kamino. 

“Sure.” He said.

Ahsoka smiled at him. “Great! Just follow what I do, okay? Master Kenobi says that teaching others is a good way to learn, so just ask me if you have any questions.”

“I  _ know  _ how to fight.” Boba snapped. 

“Well, you don’t know lightsaber katas, do you?” Ahsoka retorted. 

“I don’t need to know your katas. I don’t use a kriffing lightsaber, do I?” Boba bristled. 

Ahsoka rolled her eyes at him. “It’s about the  _ discipline,  _ not the weapon. Besides, anyone can use a bladed weapon. Shouldn’t you know that, if you know how to fight?”

“I know how to fight like a Mandalorian, not some  _ jetti. _ ” Boba snarled. 

Ahsoka just raised her brow at him, unimpressed. “A fight is a fight. What, you scared?” She grinned. “If I’m just some Jedi, then show me what you’ve got.”

“Fine.” Boba hissed. “Let’s go, then.” He dropped into position.

Ahsoka’s grin widened, floating two staves from a rack on the wall and tossing one at Boba. 

“Let’s go.”

* * *

“Look, all I’m saying,” Boil said, perched on the edge of Cody’s desk like a particularly irritating mouse droid, “is that it’s gotta feel weird.”    
Cody sighed. “Obviously.”

“I mean, you knew Prime, right? And the kid.” His batchmate asked.

“You already know I did.”

Boil had been in one of the CT classes, removed enough from the CCs that Jango hadn’t been around much. He’d been trained by the Alpha class Nulls and the  _ Cuy’val Dar.  _ Jango had been an overseer to the CTs, a legend who occasionally inspected new classes. 

“I can’t believe General Kenobi knew him. That they were… that they said vows. I thought Jedi couldn’t do that?”

Cody put his padd down and scrubbed a hand over his face. The rumors surrounding Boba’s appearance were only getting more and more convoluted; the High General of the 212th having some shady past with Jango was the kind of gossip fodder even the Guard couldn’t dream of supplying. Cody had done his best to stay out of it, only answering direct questions in the way Obi Wan had given him permission to; enough to dispel the wilder theories, at least among his own men. He supposed, if someone was going to know, it might as well be his own batcher. 

“Don’t spread it around,” he said, “but he wasn’t in the Order when it happened. He left. He and Jango met as slaves.”

“What, like, when the General was undercover?”

“No, when he was captured. A long time ago, before Jango got hired as the template. They met in a slave camp on Mon Gazza.” 

Boil blew out a breath. “I wouldn’t’ve guessed. I mean, that the General could get captured like that, or that Prime would say vows to a Jedi.”

Cody thought, privately, that he could very much picture Obi Wan captured. It was the source of more than one of his nightmares. The General had been healed physically from Rattatak by the time Cody took over Ghost Company, but whatever had happened there had been enough to take Alpha out of commission, stuck planetside in Tipoca. Cody didn’t even want to think about what had probably happened to put a Jedi in bacta for a month. He hadn’t been given access to the reports and he didn’t want to see them. Sometimes, it was better not to know. 

“I guess it was different then. They were practically shinies themselves.” He settled on answering. “Have you organized those rotations for the leave yet, or are you just here to gossip?”

“I can do both.” Boil huffed. “Give me a reason not to separate Rex’s karking ARCs. Didn’t one of these two nearly get arrested going to a natborn bar?”

“Fives,” Cody answered. “And I think it was for fighting in the bar, not for going in.”

Boil pursed his lips, clearly unimpressed. “Like I said.”

“Let him stay with his  _ riduur,  _ otherwise I couldn’t care less.” Cody replied. “But you can’t use my signature for it, I’m not dealing with the complaints from Torrent.”

“Ugh, nevermind. I’ll just forward these to Rex, he can organize his own shinies.” Boil said. 

There was a sudden rush of men past the door, most half in armor or just in blacks. Boil, clearly eager for the excuse, hopped off Cody’s desk and stuck his head out into the corridor. “What’s going on?”

Twitch stopped to reply. “Commander Tano is fighting Boba in training room 2. The kid’s losing bad!”

Boil turned back to Cody. Cody sighed. 

“Go. Make sure the kid doesn’t get himself killed.”

Boil grinned at him and tossed his padd at Cody’s chest, heading into the corridor with entirely too much enjoyment for a full grown trooper going to watch a couple cadets fight. 

(Tano was a cadet, all the padawans were, no matter what the Generals said. Cody would stand by that.)

It wasn’t more than a minute later when he saw General Skywalker march past the door, radiating rage clearly enough for the most Force-null being in the galaxy to sense it. Cody gave it a count of one, two… and Skywalker had backtracked to Cody’s door. He walked in without so much as a knock, scowling like Alpha on shiny duty. 

“Cody. Did you know about this?” Skywalker demanded. 

Cody put down his padd. He didn’t stand. 

“Know about what, sir?”

Skywalker somehow managed to look more nettled. Even Wolffe couldn’t manage a scowl like that. 

“Obi Wan and the clone template- about Jango Fett.”

“I did not, sir.” Cody answered. 

There was always something odd about hearing natborns call Jango a ‘template’. It wasn’t wrong, of course. But the way natborns always said it made Cody suspect the phrase was more than a descriptor. 

“You must have known Fett, right? Didn’t he say anything?”

Cody chose to be charitable and not dwell on Skywalker’s apparent belief that every clone had known Jango, even if Cody in fact had. 

“He trained my class, yes. He didn’t discuss his personal life with us.”

Not a lie, exactly. Jango had certainly never discussed Obi Wan, or anything that might have made him appear less than a shining beskar standard of  _ beroya  _ conduct.

Skywalker’s gloved hand tapped an irritated rhythm on his arm. 

“This doesn’t make sense.”

It didn’t make sense, Cody supposed. He had to agree with Skywalker there. But he wasn’t about to say so. Even if he disagreed, he knew very well what side he would fall on in whatever conflict Obi Wan and Skywalker were having at any given time. 

“The Jedi code forbids attachments. He’s said so a thousand times! I can’t believe he would lie to me like this.” Skywalker continued. 

“I’m afraid I can’t comment, sir.” Cody replied. 

It was clearly not the answer Skywalker was looking for. He made a frustrated sound. 

“You need to tell me if anything happens. I don’t like this; this kid shows up out of nowhere, right in the middle of the war? I mean, how do we even know who he is. He could be any random clone! It could all be some scheme.” Skywalker ranted. 

Cody clasped his hands behind his back. 

As if he didn’t know his brothers. As if he didn’t know Boba, couldn’t tell him apart just like he could tell apart any other cadet. As if they were so easy to misplace. Slick’s easy betrayal ached behind Cody’s eyes; the way his own man had snuck his traitorous actions under Cody’s own command. 

“I’ll be sure to relay any pertinent information to the 501st, General.” He responded. 

That stopped Skywalker’s tapping, at least, if it didn’t entirely calm him. 

“You do that.” He nodded. “I’m trusting you.”

“Sir.” Cody replied. 

Once again, he hadn’t lied. He simply also reasoned that there was little chance that the details of Obi Wan’s personal life were going to be relevant to the operations of the 501st; there would be no reason to include any of it in a report.

“I’m going back to the ship. Rex needs to hear about this.” Skywalker announced. He left with a flourish of his robes. 

Cody, again, sighed. Cheers rose from down the corridor; presumably the spar between Boba and the Commander had delivered on its promised entertainment value. 

He briefly considered going to check, and decided against it. Dealing with Skywalker was enough drama for the day; or at least for the hours, if he was lucky. 

Something would go wrong soon enough, if past performance was an indicator. Until the screaming inevitably started, Cody resolved to stay as far from the chaos as he reasonably could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are they called padds in star wars or are my trekkie roots showing


End file.
